in my neighborhood pt. 17

Clack Clack

Blood fall, blood meal, blood fails.
There’s blood in ‘em leaves.

And all the while the high heel lady goes:
Clack clack clackity clack upstairs.

Blood on the tracks
Socks in your pants
(The pockets)
Sop it!

That clack clack clackity clack

What I’m Reading:

“… maybe I’ll live to be really old … to die decrepit and alone … with the only company being the crabs who slowly chew off my face.”

— Elizabeth Pich / Fungirl: You Are Revolting

About istsfor manity

i'm a truncated word-person looking for an assemblage of extracted teeth in a tent full of mosquitoes (and currently writing a novel without writing a novel word) and pulling nothing but the difficult out of the top hat while the bunny munches grass in the hallway. you might say: i’m thee asynchronous voice over in search of a film....
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